


we're starting over, and I love you darling

by CrossedMoon



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Canon-Typical Worms (The Magnus Archives), F/M, Pre-Canon, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:00:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26448208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrossedMoon/pseuds/CrossedMoon
Summary: When Tim Stoker takes a job in research at the Magnus Institute, he expects a lot of things, weird encounters, creepy bosses, boring co-workers. What he doesn't expect is to meet his soulmate.My submission for the Rusty Quill Big Bang!My artist was illusion_of_sea_axes on Tumblr, and you can find their piece for this work over herehttps://illusion-of-sea-axes.tumblr.com/post/629172002339586048/heres-a-piece-if-did-for-pilesofnonsense-2020
Relationships: Sasha James/Tim Stoker
Comments: 4
Kudos: 18
Collections: Rusty Quill Big Bang 2020





	we're starting over, and I love you darling

When Tim would get to a certain level of intoxication, he would take a marker to his skin, draw some intricate pattern, covering most or all of his arm. Most of the time, he barely processed that he was doing it, just let the marker glide across his skin without particular attention to what he was putting down. It was a strange habit, but he still enjoyed it, especially since, every time he drew, without fail, he’d wake up the next morning with the patterns colored in with precision. It warmed his heart to picture another person hunched over their arm, a collection of different colored markers spread out in front of them.  
Tim only knew two concrete things about his soulmate, they were older than him, as they were able to communicate on his 18th birthday, and their name started with an S. He had wanted to know exactly who his soulmate was the second he could, but they had insisted on the bare minimum of knowledge about each other before they could meet. He understood wanting to actually get to know someone, not wanting to immediately jump into being soulmates, but understanding didn’t mean that he was happy about it.  
He got a birthday message every year, which he saved in a specific photo album on his phone, which he studied when he was feeling particularly lonely, but they had never had a true, genuine conversation before.  
This fact was something Tim turned over and over in his head as he stared at his blank arm, pen resting in his hand. It was a suggestion from his therapist, to attempt to broach a conversation. This suggestion came three months after Danny died. It wasn’t like Tim had very many meaningful connections outside of his brother, and casual acquaintances weren’t the best at helping someone deal with the worst grief a person could experience.  
He reached over, let a single stroke slide onto his forearm. Then he stopped. This was stupid. They wouldn’t know what to say, and they definitely wouldn’t be able to help. He stared at that stroke for what felt like both one minute and seven days. Then he felt the tingling sensation that came before ink would appear on him, and watched as a delicate question mark was written. “You ok?” came after.  
Before tonight, Tim would’ve said that he had run out of tears. He spent two months with his head pounding from dehydration, his face sticky. The sensation of dried tears on his cheeks was one of the few constants in his life. But they bubbled back up again, blurring his vision. He sobbed until he could get enough of a grip on himself to clear his vision.  
His handwriting was so much worse than usual with his shaky hands as he carefully wrote out “my brother died”.  
The response came quickly. “Oh dear, that’s awful. How are you?”  
“You know, not great.” He wrote.  
“Hm,” came back.  
Tim waited, sure that their response wasn’t finished yet. He was rewarded for his patience greatly when he read the next message.  
“I really shouldn’t be doing this but,” followed by a string of ten numbers, which could only be one thing.  
He entered the numbers into his phone and sent a test message. 

To S is for Soulmate: hello?  
From S is for Soulmate: you still aren’t getting my name, that’s too easy.  
To S is for Soulmate: Fair enough.  
From S is for Soulmate: Do you want to talk about it?  
To S is for Soulmate: :shrug:

Tim flopped backwards onto his bed as they continued to text. When he fell asleep that night, he felt the best he’d felt in months. Of course, that still wasn’t good, but it was a better version of bad than he was used to, which was progress.  
~~~  
The Magnus Institute was less intimidating than one would think considering its focus, but Tim’s hands still shook as he traversed the steps. It was his first day of work, and he was more than a little frightened of what the day would entail.  
Some nameless worker, seemingly high on the rung, showed him to his new desk. Tim made an attempt to turn on his charm, flash a smile and a quick compliment, but it felt like a bad performance, and the worker seemed uninterested.  
Tim was given his first assignment, given a stack of files and told to highlight any mention of Liverpool in them. Once the supervisor, or whatever he was, left, Tim sat back in his chair and inspected his desk neighbors.  
To his left was the absolute tiniest woman he had ever seen, a mound of red hair piled on top of her head. She was squinting at a computer screen, glasses pushed up to aid in vision. The desk to his right was empty at the moment, but the open soda can and bag of cheetos told him that it wouldn’t stay empty for very long. The desk across from him housed a man hunched over his computer, with waves of “don’t talk to me” rolling off of him.  
Content with the impression he got of his future mates, he then actually began work. Thirty minutes later, he was squinting over a particularly unreadable stretch of handwriting when a throat was cleared in front of his desk. Tim looked up to see the angry librarian who owned the desk in front of him had cleared the aisle and was standing right in front of him now.  
“Hi, I’m Tim?” He said, voice rising to form a question.  
“You’re looking at the Liverpool files.” The personification of black coffee said. It sounded like it should have been a question, but he stated it as a fact.  
“Yes, sir,” Tim answered anyway.  
“Are you finished with the Storgaard statement? I need it.”  
Tim searched through his pile of complete files, rewarded with the statement the sweater vest in a human body wanted, and was about to hand it off when he glanced over it, and stopped. Without thinking, he pulled out his phone, and opened his photos app. After comparison, he was sure he wasn’t seeing things. He knew that S, and he was suddenly so much closer to finding his soulmate than he had been two minutes ago.  
The bite of black coffee huffed and held out his hand.  
“Do you know who wrote this label?” Tim asked, cringing at the desperation in his voice.  
“No,” he said, “can I have the statement now?”  
Tim handed it over, and as king of annoyed glares walked back to his desk, he realized he had never gotten the man’s name. He shrugged, turning back to his work. It wasn’t the end of the world.  
Halfway through the afternoon, just about when Tim was getting bored of the busywork, someone entered the room. This wouldn’t have done anything to get his attention, until he saw the workaholic scramble up in his seat. “Mr. Bouchard.” He sputtered out.  
Tim finally looked up to see the man who interviewed him, and the head of the institute, smile, almost a warm smile, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Please, Jonathan,” he got a name. Tim turned it over in his head, hoped that he had a nickname, and switched his gaze to the big bossman as he continued to speak, “call me Elias.” The smile got bigger, and somehow more uncanny.  
Daniela, the tiny woman next to him, who Tim had a very pleasant conversation with during lunch, spoke up, “What are you doing down here, sir?”  
“I just wanted to welcome the new hire. See how he was getting on during his first day.”  
“I’m doing great, Mr. Bou-” the gaze that was put on him caused him to stop his words in their tracks, “I’m doing great, Elias, I actually had a question.”  
“Of course, what do you need?”  
Tim felt a little awkward asking in front of everyone in the room, but he forged ahead. “Are the books in the research library required to stay in the building? Or can they be taken home?”  
Elias stared at him for just a beat too long, that unnerving smile still affixed on his face. “Wanting to take your research home? I admire your ethic! Usually they are required to stay in the library, but I can have a chat with the librarians, ask them to make an exception for you.” At that, Elias made some tired joke that only an out-of-touch boss would say, and left.  
The second the door closed, Jonathan, who Tim had already decided to call Jon, because if they were going to be friends, he needed to give his poor mouth a break from all those syllables, made a beeline to Tim’s desk. “How did you do that?”  
“Huh?” Tim asked.  
“I’ve been making formal appeals for the ability to check books out of the library for months, and you did that in a single conversation.”  
Tim shrugged. “I guess he just likes me more.” He considered the issue, before formulating a plan, “I mean, I would be willing to check out books for you if you told me which ones you wanted,” Jon’s eyes began to light up, but Tim wasn’t finished, “on one condition.”  
At that, Jon’s face fell, “What’s the condition.”  
“You need to have lunch with me tomorrow.”  
“Oh, I, uh,” Jon started, “I’m not really interested in-”  
“No, no,” Tim interrupted, “not like that, not at all like that, I just mean as friends. Besides, I didn’t see you take your lunch break today.”  
“I got caught up in my work.”  
“Yeah, uh-huh, I want to make sure that isn’t a habit.”  
Jon sighed, “Deal.” and accepted the handshake that Tim offered.  
That night, Tim abandoned the food he was preparing when his phone buzzed.  
From S is for Soulmate: How was work?  
To S is for Soulmate: fine, made some friends. boss was weird tho.  
From S is for Soulmate: Are they like, “tries too hard to be funny” weird, or like, “probably runs a cult” weird.

The timer rang, breaking Tim from his thoughts as he considered his response. He transferred the pasta into the drainer, and picked up his phone again.

To S is for Soulmate: both? he definitely runs a cult lol  
From S is for Soulmate: Let me know if you join that cult, so I can follow you.  
To S is for Soulmate: is that how I finally earn your name? join a cult?  
From S is for Soulmate: I’m sure there’s something less extreme you can find.  
To S is for Soulmate: simone? seth? sebastian? silvia?  
From S is for Soulmate: Lord help me if my name is Silvia.  
To S is for Soulmate: not silvia, good to know.

Tim sat down with his bowl of pasta, ignoring his tv remote in favor of continuing the conversation.

From S is for Soulmate: How do you even know that my name starts with S? What if I was lying about that?  
To S is for Soulmate: I know you wouldn’t lie to your soulmate like that.  
From S is for Soulmate: Touche

At lunch the next day, Tim spent a quarter of his break just trying to drag Jon away from his desk.  
“We can just eat here.” He kept insisting.  
“No I’m not falling for this trick.” Tim said.  
“Trick?” Jon asked.  
“It’s called a lunch break for a reason, Jon, it’s not a break if you stay at your desk. Remember, the library agreement is conditional.”  
That got him up with a groan, and they secured a spot at a corner table in the break room. Tim pulled out a thermos, filled with homemade mac & cheese. He watched Jon open his truly pathetic attempt at a salad.  
“That’s what you call a salad? It doesn’t even have any meat on it.”  
Jon held up his hands in defense. “I’m a picky eater!” He said.  
“I get that, but even picky eaters can eat better salads than that.” He considered for a second before stealing a piece of lettuce. “Tell you what, if I get a list of the foods you will absolutely not eat by the end of the day today, I will make you a salad so good, you’ll never want to go back to that lettuce-tomato-cheese excuse for a meal.”  
Jon sighed. “Alright.”  
They fell into a comfortable conversation after that, covering the bare minimum of learning about each other as new friends. Tim learned that Jon had been working at the institute for about nine months, didn’t share Tim’s theory about Elias’s possible cult, but it didn’t mean he actually liked the guy, and he was very much a cat person.  
“So,” Tim said, “met your soulmate yet?”  
Jon shook his head no. “I had someone who I thought was my soulmate, but when she turned 18 and ink didn’t show up on me, we split.”  
“Oh,” Tim said, “that’s rough buddy.”  
“We were teenagers, teenagers are dumb, hardly anybody ends up with the person they think is their soulmate as a teen, it’s fine, I’m fine. What about you?”  
Tim thought about the collection of smiley faces covering his arm, hidden by his shirt. It had been a competition between the two of them the night before, they exchanged them until one of them gave up or fell asleep.  
“I’m going to tell you something, and I need you to promise that you’re not going to tell a single other person.” Tim had been working for the institute for a day and a half, and had already seen someone get wrung through the office rumor mill. He just knew that if his suspicions got out, S wouldn’t like it one bit. Jon nodded his agreement.  
Tim leaned in and put his hand up in a dramatization of conspiracy, “I think my soulmate works here.” He said.  
“Oh,” Jon said, “do you know who it is?”  
“No, but I recognized their handwriting on a file label.”  
“Alright, well,” Jon leaned back, “I’m not saying I’m invested, but if I were to see an example of this handwriting, I wouldn’t be opposed to keeping an eye out for it.”  
Tim grinned as he pulled out his phone. This was a sign that they were officially friends, and he was happy to have at least one ally at work. He flipped through the album, and watched Jon’s eyes narrow as he inspected the writing.  
The rest of the work day was light, and Tim’s smile refused to leave, even as he did a close read of some account of gruesome murder.

A few days later, he couldn’t coax Jon away from his desk, so instead he resolved to bring him back half of his sandwich and went to sit with Rosie, his backup lunch buddy. If there was a rumor mill at the Institute, she was the manager of it. It was kind of shocking how many details she could remember, connections made that would pass by anybody else. This led her to be one interesting person to talk to, even if he had to watch what he said, to avoid gaining his own rumors.  
“I want to propose something to you.” She said when he sat down.  
“I know I’m attractive, but at least take me to dinner first.” He shot back. He got a piece of popcorn in the face for his troubles.  
“We’ve gotten a request from a certain boss to do some ‘company bonding’. He told me that while he would love to organize them himself, he is so incredibly busy, and asked me to do them.”  
“So?” Tim said, “Are we just not going to do them?”  
“Oh, no, we’re doing them, however,” The smirk on her face made Tim both scared and excited, “he never said they had to be on the premises, and I know a pretty decent pub that does half-off drinks on Tuesdays.”  
“Am I hearing weekly drink nights?”  
“You have perfect hearing.”  
The plan was set then, Rosie was going to invite a few people, “the fun ones,” from each department, “except HR, that group of sticklers.” and they would meet up after work that evening. He tried to invite Jon, but he was focused on whatever he was working on, and was planning on taking it home that night.  
When meeting time came, he was a few minutes late, trying again to convince Jon to come with him, and failing, but he found the group easily enough. He saw a few familiar faces, however vague the familiarity was, but when he slid into his seat, he found himself across from the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen.  
She had long brown hair, half of it up in a bun, and it was swinging around as she wrestled with George from finance over some figurine. She threw her head back in laughter and, for some reason, he found himself focused on her teeth, which were uneven, but that somehow made them cuter.  
She hadn’t seemed to notice him, and he was lost in his thoughts until she slammed her hands on the table as she got up. “I’m going to get some beers, good ones, who wants one?”  
That’s when he noticed how tall she was, he was pretty sure that if they compared heights, she would only be a inch or two shorter than him. He raised his hand to indicate he wanted one, and watched her as she walked away.  
“Hey,” he elbowed Rosie, “who’s that?”  
“Her? That’s Sasha James, she works in artifact storage and is one of the few actually competent people working here.”  
Tim spent too long wondering why the name Sasha was so interesting to him, then he realized that she was the first institute employee he had met who’s name started with S. It wouldn’t be that easy, would it?  
She came back, distributing the beers before she sat down. As she pushed Tim’s toward him, she smiled at him.  
“So, mysterious stranger, what’s your story?”  
Tim smirked at her. “You think I’m mysterious?”  
“I think you’re mysterious because I don’t know anything about you. Besides, it’s a nicer nickname than new guy, which is what you’ve been gifted by most of them. Tell me about yourself, what did you before landing a job in this dump?”  
“I actually worked in publishing for a time.”  
“Oh really?” She took a sip of her beer. “Why’d you leave?”  
He wasn’t about to tell her about the circus, not when they just met, so he just recited the script he had prepared, about not feeling fulfilled in his publishing job, about thinking he could do more good working here than there.  
“Ah,” She said, “A noble pursuit.”  
The two of them spent the entire night talking, ignoring whatever petty argument had overtaken the rest of the group in favor of each other. As they were leaving, way too late and way too drunk for a Tuesday night with work the next day, they walked next to each other.  
“Ugh,” Sasha said, “I don’t think the tube is running my line this late.”  
The next words that came out of Tim’s mouth felt weirdly natural. “You could stay over at mine?” It wasn’t until she turned around and fixed him with a glare that he realized the implications of what he said.  
“Oh. right, sorry, I have a guest bedroom, with a very comfortable, empty,” he put extra emphasis on that word, “bed. It’s about a ten minute bus ride away.”  
“Oh, ok, well, if that’s the case, then sure.” She sounded distant, and he had to guess that she was tired. That guess was proven when she fell asleep on his shoulder on the bus ride. Her breaths were soft, almost musical, and Tim found himself sort of enjoying the sound.  
In the elevator, she turned to him. “Sorry about the busy thing.” She said.  
Tim shrugged. “It’s fine, you were tired, I’m sure my shoulder was more comfortable than the window.” The rest of the ride up was quiet in an almost awkward way, but not quite reaching that level.  
They finally arrived in his flat. Standing in his living room, Sasha squared her shoulders back like she was getting down to business. “Point me to your bathroom and where I will be sleeping, and I will be out of your hair.” He followed those requests, and as she walked down the hall, he sat down on his couch.  
He didn’t quite want to go to bed yet, even though it was nearing 1 a.m. Instead, he sat and stared at the picture hanging above his tv. It was of his family, but it wasn’t professionally done. His parents were never big fans of that. They were at the beach, it had been taken at the trip they took to celebrate him graduating 8th grade. His mom and dad were standing in the middle, arms around each other. Tim was standing next to his mother, but he wasn’t looking at the camera, instead, he was looking at Danny, who was displayed in front of the rest of them, leaning on one foot, arms thrown out dramatically, and laughing.  
Most days the grief was manageable, but it was still there, a steady thrum under the rest of his emotions. It had been nearly six months, and some mornings he woke up and had to process the fact that he was actually gone, and not just playing some elaborate prank.  
An hour later, he finally got up, intending to go to bed. But first, he went to the kitchen and filled two glasses with water. When he walked into the guest room, Sasha was asleep on top of the blankets, shoes off, but with glasses still on. He set one of the glasses down on the nightstand and pulled the glasses off her face, setting them next to the water.  
Her hair was completely messed up and her mouth was open with some drool spilling out of it, but Tim would still agree with his previous observation of how gorgeous she was.

~~~  
The next morning, he woke up to the sharp trilling of his alarm with a groan. Next week, he’d be sure to remember the Tuesday night part of Tuesday night drinks more than the drinks part. Drunk Tim was a blessing, however, and he chugged the water before he opened his eyes fully. That’s when he processed the sound of pans clinking together, and some sort of sweet smell wafting into his room.  
And that’s when he remembered the thing with Sasha, and a strange flood of regret and tenderness overcame him.  
The regret left when he shuffled into his hallway and heard a faint humming coming from the kitchen.  
“What’s going on here?” He asked as he walked in.  
“Oh!” Sasha said as she plated something, “you were so kind letting me stay here last night, I figured I would attempt to pay that kindness back. You have the basic ingredients for baking in your kitchen, and that’s all I needed to make some pancakes.”  
“You are shockingly peppy for the morning after a night of drinking.” Was Tim’s only response.  
Sasha shrugged. “I don’t really get hangovers. Oh yeah, thanks for the water.”  
“Well, thank you very much for the breakfast, I can really only cook pasta myself.” He watched carefully for her reaction, knowing that was something specific he had told S in the past. She didn’t reveal anything, but that didn’t discourage him. Not yet.  
“And yet you’re still alive.” She shot back.  
“Takeout’s a blessing, honestly.”  
“Listen,” he said, “I’m going to go ahead and assume you don’t want to go to work in the same clothes as yesterday, so here’s my idea. If you were willing to rewear those pants, you could borrow one of my shirts, and bam! New outfit!”  
Sasha laughed and handed him a plate. “That sounds like a plan, as long as I can choose the shirt. I’m not really a hawaiian shirt kind of girl myself.”  
“What if I told you my entire wardrobe was hawaiian shirts.”  
Her face dropped, “No.” She said, sounding mortally offended.  
Tim laughed. “Good thing that’s not the case. I’m sure there’s something in there that will suit your tastes.”  
They sat down to eat, and Tim found himself enjoying the quiet breakfast he shared with her. He was all too used to leaning over a bowl of instant oatmeal on the counter, scrolling through Twitter and finishing the bowl in five minutes. But this was nice, the comfortable silence they shared as they both truly ate and appreciated the pancakes.

~~~

Two days later, Tim was typing up a report when he heard someone enter the room. He groaned, dreading another visit from Elias with his weird smile and weirder eyes, but the groan stopped in its tracks when he looked up and saw Sasha standing in the doorway.  
“Tim!” She said. “Come with me, I have something to show you.”  
Tim hopped out of his chair, grabbing his phone and his jacket and followed Sasha out of the room. She led him down some stairs, and down some more stairs.  
“Have we traveled into hell yet?” Tim asked.  
“We aren’t even in the lowest level yet, the archives earned that privilege.”  
“We have an archive?” Tim asked.  
Sasha barked out a laugh. “You’re lucky you haven’t had to work with them yet. Though, do remind me to introduce you to Gertrude one day. Now come on, this is our stop.”  
She pushed open a door, with a sign labeling it as artefact storage. It looked like Tim was going to see where Sasha worked. It was much darker than his office, but he could see a variety of seemingly random objects around the place. Finally, they stopped under the brightest working light in the room. Sitting in the middle of the beam, looking like it was spotlighted like that on purpose, was a normal looking paint can.  
“Open it,” Sasha commanded.  
As Tim approached the can, his mind raced. It probably wasn’t something dangerous, right? He knew they didn’t know each other for that long, but she didn’t seem like the type of person to be malicious to people she barely knows. Besides, they seemed to get along fine.  
He made a decision, and pulled the lid off of the can.  
Then he was glad he had shut his eyes in anticipation, as he felt the slimy wetness of paint splatter over his body. He heard Sasha’s laughter ring out as he fell to the ground in shock.  
“Oh, that went exactly as planned,” She got out between laughs, “thank you for that.”  
Tim stared at his arms, absolutely covered in blue paint. He shook the paint off of his left hand, before using it to wipe most of it off of his arm. He accepted the towel Sasha handed to him, and got the rest of the paint off. Unfortunately, he was not fast enough to prevent some stains, splotches of blue up and down his arms.  
“We don’t think it’s actually haunted or anything,” Sasha said, “Our running theory is that it’s some kind of mechanism that gets tripped when the lid is removed, but nobody’s exactly willing to get covered in paint to figure it out.”  
Tim finally looked up at Sasha, and froze at what he saw.  
But Sasha, not noticing Tim’s eyes widening, continued, “Alex, our poor intern that first investigated the thing, actually was excused to go home, it was so surprising for him. I volunteered to figure it out, but I figured I’d have some fun fir-”  
“Sasha.” Tim said the second he regained the ability to speak. “Sasha.” He said again, staring at her arm.  
“Wha-oh.” She said, finally noticing what had left Tim so shocked. Familiar looking splotches of blue dotting her arms, ones that were definitely not there before. “Oh.”  
They stared at each other for a long time, Tim sitting on the floor, Sasha standing over him. Then, Sasha shook herself and started to walk away. “Right, that was a fun prank, but you should probably get back to work.”  
“Sasha.”  
She whirled around, hands thrown up. “Can you say anything except for my name?” Sasha snapped.  
Tim got up, shook the feeling back into his hand. “We need to talk about this.” He said.  
“I know!” She yelled, before quickly softening her voice, “Just, not now, ok? I can’t deal with this right now.”  
“Alright. Ok. Yeah, we can talk about it later.”  
Tim went back to his desk, equal parts worried and ecstatic. Whatever was happening, He knew he wouldn’t be working on that report anymore that day. He had just saved and closed out of the window when Jon came up to him, schemes in his eyes.  
“So, guess what, I found another file with the handwriting, and I think I have a connection, they both originated in Artefact Storage! That narrows it down, doesn’t it?”  
Tim sighed, “good job, but you really don’t have to do it.”  
“You’re right,” Jon said, “I don’t have to do it, but I did say I would, and I’m a man of my word.”  
“No, you don’t have to do that anymore.” Tim said.  
“What?” He thought for a second, “Oh! That means.”  
Tim nodded, small smile on his face. “You remember the woman who dragged me away a few minutes ago?”  
“Did you just find out, or?”  
“Yeah. I’ve known who my soulmate is for about fifteen minutes ago.”  
“Well, that’s good.” Jon said, “congrats.”  
“Let’s hope so.”

~~~

Sasha showed up at Tim’s door without warning at precisely seven o’clock that evening. The tight bun she had her hair in at work had devolved into a lump of hair with random strands pulled out. Her eyes were bloodshot and a bit puffy. She had been crying, and that revelation tightened something in his chest.  
She breezed past him and walked into his living room. He paused behind the doorway before he followed her in, taking a deep breath. She was standing in the center of the room, staring at his board game cabinet. He had a feeling she was staring at that spot for a reason that wasn’t her vested interest in Clue.  
“I’ve been trying to figure this out for six hours.” She said, “and I don’t know what the next step is. I didn’t want to know this early.”  
“I know.” Tim said, sitting down on the couch.  
“I think knowing who one’s soulmate is before you have time to bond places an unneeded pressure on the development of the relationship.” Her voice was getting increasingly broken. “I’m scared. What if we aren’t as compatible as we think?”  
“Sasha.” Tim said. She almost turned around, but stopped herself. Tim did know that she was listening, so he continued. “Whatever force in the universe decides these things knows what it’s doing.”  
“So what do we do?” She asked.  
“We start at the beginning.” He stood up, and walked around in front of her. She held his gaze for a few seconds, before looking away. “We start at the beginning, and we try to not let expectations overwhelm us.”  
“Ok.” Sasha said, finally returning his gaze. “Ok, how do we do that?”  
“Sasha James, will you go on a date with me?”  
She smiled, and nodded her head. “Tim Stoker, I will go on a date with you.”  
~~~

On the day of the date, Rose interrupted Tim’s anxious buzzing around the office by slamming a stack of papers on his desk. He looked up from his computer, where he was very busy pretending to look busy.  
“You’ve got a date with the hottie from Artefact Storage.” She said, simple and to the point.  
“How on earth did you know that? I only told-” he stopped, turning his chair to face his neighbor across the aisle, who was currently trying to hide his guilty expression.  
“I trusted you!” Tim gasped, putting his hand over his heart, looking betrayed.  
Jon hid his laughter in his hands. Rosie snapped her fingers until he was back paying attention to her.  
“Whoever my source was isn’t important. The important thing is obvious, I would think.” ‘  
She was right. The big question when two people, specifically adults, went on a date. It wasn’t unheard of for two non-soulmate adults to go out, even to get into serious relationships. Those always ended in disaster, when one person would find theirs, and run off with them, leaving the other person devastated. It was traumatic, and left many people jaded to the idea of soulmates, but the cycle still repeated every generation.  
Psychologists around the world had spent years trying to figure out why this happened, even giving it an official name and everything, “Divisive Amatophilia.” Tim, however, had it figured out, because only two traits of humans were consistent throughout the ages, stubbornness and horniness, and those combined produced wild results.  
But, he knew that Sasha was a private person, and while it was probably easier to just confirm it, keep the rumor mill at bay, he also didn’t want to do that without her permission. So, he deflected.  
“I’m not sure I want to tell you.” He said.  
“Oh, come on!” Rosie complained, “I won’t tell anyone!”  
Tim laughed in her face, aware of how untrue that statement was. “No, I think I’ll leave you guessing, at least for now.”  
She was about to voice another complaint when the door creaked open. There was a small scramble from all the employees in the room, because, somehow, the only one the door ever creaked for was Elias.  
“Rosie,” he said.  
“Yes, sir?” She asked, not even bothering to turn around.  
“The Lucas family is about to call the Institute, it would be prudent for you to not keep them waiting.” She sighed and walked off, not even bothering to look like she was in a hurry.  
When the door shut behind her, Elias turned to Jon, his expression much friendlier. The contrast was stark, leading Tim to file away “probably sexist” on the long list of asshole boss traits he’d been keeping.  
“I’ve noticed something interesting about you, Jon.” He said. “As you know, your performance review is coming up, so I was reviewing some of your statistics and I saw an intriguing trend.”  
“What would that be, sir?” He asked.  
“Your efficiency trended up drastically but two days after I gave Tim permission to check out books from the library.” He gave a slight chuckle. “I think I see what’s going on here.”  
Jon gave Tim a panicked glance, to which he shrugged. What was Elias going to do? There’s no way he’d be able to fire them because of that.  
“What would-what would that be?” Jon stuttered out.  
“I sense a friendly rivalry going on!” Elias said.  
Jon’s shoulders visibly relaxed, and Tim used the second he took to just be relieved to step into the conversation. “Yes sir, we sure are.” He said. “Jon’s such a hard worker, it makes me want to work so much harder.”  
“That’s great to hear!” Elias said. “A good incentive to keep productivity up can be very helpful indeed.” There was an awkward silence that lasted for far too long before Elias finally spoke. “Well, I’ll leave you to it!”  
He left, and Tim and Jon stared at each other, confused, for quite a while.  
“That was sufficiently weird.” Daniela said, startling Tim. She was so quiet, he had honestly forgotten she was there.  
Jon and Daniela got back to work, Tim got back to pretending to work, and they passed the rest of the day like that.  
\---  
Tim wasn’t panicking about his date, he was just pacing his bedroom while staring at two different shirts he couldn’t decide between for fun. They hadn’t really discussed the formality of the date, and he was worried about being too underdressed. The white button down with the suit jacket over it would definitely be formal, but if she was wearing jeans and a blouse or something, he would be way over dressed.  
His phone buzzed, causing him to throw both choices down and scramble to grab it from his bed.

From Sasha: How formal are we doing this?  
From Sasha: Because I have a floor length dress if necessary, but I’d rather not wear it if possible.

Of course, she was worrying about the same exact thing, but she had the sense to actually text him about it.

To Sasha: oh god no if you’re going to be uncomfy do NOT wear it  
To Sasha: im wearing collared shirt and nice slacks  
To Sasha: you can match that if u need  
To Sasha: tho you’d look pretty in a trash bag  
To Sasha: NOt in a serial killer way  
From Sasha: I know what you meant. I’ll be there in ten minutes.

Five minutes later, Tim was sitting on his couch, holding a book in his hands. He was reading the words, but they weren’t being processed over the anxious pounding in his brain. He gave up, setting the book on his coffee table.  
He flicked on his radio and began pacing again, this time to the beat of the music. It actually helped calm him a bit, concentrating on his steps cleared his mind.  
Though, that all was ruined when there was a knock on his door, his thoughts returned to racing in a split second.  
He opened his door and his brain screeched to a halt like a cartoon character.  
Sasha was standing in front of him. Her hair was up in a half ponytail, curls cascading down in a way that framed her face perfectly. She was wearing a knee length blue dress, paired with black boots. She looked equal parts gorgeous and like a total badass, and it left Tim speechless.  
“Right,” She said, “You ready to go?”  
He nodded, shutting the door behind him as he stepped into the hall.  
“Where are we going?” She asked.  
He started walking off, before turning around, realizing he had forgotten to lock his door.  
“There’s a really good crepe place down the street, I thought we could get some food, then go to the park nearby, have a little picnic. This park has nice little picnic tables with, get this, cushioned chairs!”  
Sasha stepped into the elevator next to him. “Are there like, dinner crepes?”  
Tim nodded. “They have this really good ham and spinach one, I get it at least three times a month.”  
They walked, chatting about nothing until they got to the restaurant. When they walked through the door, the cashier perked up at the bell, his face brightening when he saw who walked in.  
“Timothy!” He exclaimed. “Welcome back!”  
“Good evening!” Tim said. “Sasha, this is Lucas, owner of the restaurant.”  
Lucas came around to give Tim a hug. This was Tim’s favorite part, he gave really warm hugs, before turning to offer his hand to Sasha. “It’s a joy to meet a lovely lady such as yourself. What can I get you to eat?”  
“You know what I want, but we’re taking these to go.” Tim said.  
“And for you?” Lucas asked towards Sasha.  
“Uhhh,” she said, surveying the menu, “I’ll take the chicken and mushroom, please.”  
“And two foghorns.” Tim said. He leaned over the counter as Lucas was entering the order into the cash register. “So, how’s Aden?” He asked.  
Lucas shrugged. “He’s disappeared again.”  
“That’s unfortunate. He’ll come back.” Sasha gave Tim a confused look, he mouthed “I’ll tell you later.”  
Fifteen minutes later, Tim and Sasha were leaving the restaurant with the food and blanket Lucas insisted on giving them for their picnic.  
“It’s a bit complicated.” Tim said. “The short answer is that Aden is Lucas’s ex-boyfriend who works at his restaurant.”  
“What’s the long answer?” Sasha asked.  
“They’ve both hate each other and still kind of love each other. From what I can tell, I think they still occasionally, you know.” He paused, before continuing, “Aden spends about half his time working with Lucas, and half of his time off somewhere else. I’ve never gotten a clear answer of where he goes, just that it’s like really foggy, and that Lucas does not like it.”  
He stopped, they had reached the spot he was leading them towards. After setting down the blanket and distributing the food, they dug in.  
“How’s work going?” Tim asked.  
“Well, I would say normally, but I’m not sure there is a normal in my department.” Sasha joked.  
“Do you really believe all of this supernatural nonsense?” Tim asked. It was wrong of him to call it nonsense, since he himself believed some of it, but he had to ask.  
“I have to. There’s so much weird stuff in Artefact Storage, it’s hard to explain it all away. You?”  
Tim took a bite of his crepe to consider his answer. He hadn’t told her every detail about Danny’s death, and he didn’t think a first date would be the best place to expand on it.  
“Yeah? A bit. Though most stuff I investigate is completely mundane.”  
Sasha opened one of the bottles of foghorn, sniffing it suspiciously.  
“Oh,” Tim said, realizing he never explained what the drink was, “it’s watermelon and lime soda. A speciality of the crepe place, and very good.”  
“It’s very pretty.” She said.  
She was right. It looked kind of like a lava lamp, with some grey liquid floating around, looking like fog, hence the name. Sasha took a sip, and Tim watched her consider the taste, before her eyes lit up and she downed about half the bottle.  
“It continues to be the only soda I will drink.” Tim said, “I have yet to find anything as tasty.”  
Sasha burst out into a round of laughter, it was rough enough that she didn’t seem able to breathe. “Tim Stoker,” she gasped out, continuing to laugh until she calmed down. “You did not just use the word ‘tasty’ unironically.”  
“Do you have a problem with that?” Tim asked.  
“Yes, because nobody uses the word tasty except for mothers trying to get their kids to eat food.”  
Tim leaned over and gently pushed on Sasha’s shoulder. “Nobody except me.” He said. “Stickler.”  
Sasha pushed back, much rougher, “Who you calling stickler?” She asked, her voice bouncy from laughter.  
“I’m talking to you, Ms. uses proper grammar in text messages!”  
“Better that than using the letter u and the word you in the same sentence, which, you’ve done multiple times.”  
“Oh that’s it!” Tim shouted, fully shoving Sasha to the ground. He paused for just a second, testing her reaction. That was a mistake though, as he found himself being pulled to the ground. He flailed about, trying to fight back, but she just rolled him until she had him pinned.  
“I think I win,” She managed to get out between the breaths and the laughter.  
Her face was mere inches from his, he realized. If this was a movie, this is where she’d catch her breath, notice their closeness, before closing the distance and leaning in for the kiss. But this was not a movie. Sasha pushed herself off of him, not even seeming to notice the position they were in.  
“Awww,” She said, staring at their blanket, “you knocked over my soda.”  
Tim pushed himself so he was sitting up. “Why do you blame me? We were both involved in it!”  
“Because I never make a mistake.” She responded simply.  
When she got up, Tim called “you can finish mine off!” before flopping back down on the ground.  
The sun was just about to set, and it was the best time of day, when the air was cool, and everything was peaceful. He could sit there for hours, just staring at the clouds in the sky.  
He heard footsteps headed his way, then Sasha sitting down next to him.  
“This was nice.” She said. “You were right.”  
“Right about what?” He asked.  
“You took the pressure off of the whole soulmate thing. It was just a date, with no prior expectations.”  
“Ok.” Tim said, not really sure what he should say.  
Sasha’s face appeared in his field of vision, a nervous expression dancing across her face.  
“Can I kiss you?” She asked.  
“Huh.” Tim said. He opened his mouth a few times, didn’t get anything out, before shutting it and nodding.  
She leaned down, and Tim closed his eyes at the last second. Their lips met and Tim got it. He’d kissed people plenty before, because it was a fun activity, and sometimes he could convince someone else to do it with him. But this time, it felt right, like he’d been made for this. Like whatever created him created him for the sole purpose of kissing Sasha.  
He reached a hand up and threaded his fingers into her hair. He felt her smile into the kiss. That was a good thing to do, then.  
She pulled away and moved her arm so she was leaning completely over him. “Yeah.” She said.  
“Articulate.” He responded.  
“I suddenly regret that decision.” She said.  
“Do you want to get ice cream and go back to my place?” He asked. “I have Netflix.”  
“Are you asking me to Netflix and chill with you?” Sasha asked.  
Tim pushed himself back up. “Not unless you want to, I just thought it would be a nice ending to the night.”  
They packed up the blanket, and Tim resolved to return it to Lucas the next time he went to the restaurant. He offered his arm to Sasha, and they walked side by side to the ice cream place. He noted what Sasha got, a strawberry chocolate cone, and filed it away into his memories.  
The energy in the apartment felt frazzled. They both sat on opposite ends of the couch as Tim flicked through the options. Sasha looked like she was trying to avoid accidentally touching him as much as possible.  
“Genre preference?” He asked.  
“Not horror.” She said, matter of fact.  
“You not a fan of horror?”  
“Our jobs are horror movies, I’d like to keep that over there.”  
“Fair point.”  
He put on a random movie before leaning back into the couch cushions. He glanced at her, who was still looking very tense.  
“You know, we have kissed, I think we’re a bit past the point of being afraid of accidentally brushing legs on the couch or whatever.”  
Sasha didn’t say anything, but did relax visible. “Can you turn on subtitles, please? I’ve got some issues with processing audio, and I’d like to know what’s going on.”  
“Yeah, of course.”  
They sat in silence. Tim tried to absorb the movie, but he was too distracted by Sasha, who was sitting right next to him.  
Then, she leaned into him, looking like she wasn’t even thinking when she did it, and any hope for following the plot disappeared in a poof. He slowly reached his arm up and wrapped it around her shoulders. She wiggled a bit, and settled a bit more into the position.  
When he pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her head, she tensed, and Tim was afraid he had ruined the moment. Then she relaxed again. They didn’t say anything for the rest of the movie, but it was obvious they were both content.  
The contentedness was made more obvious when he looked at her when the credits began rolling, and realized she had fallen asleep. He shook her awake.  
“Wha-huh?” She asked when she startled awake.  
“Do you want to go home?” He asked, “It’s getting late.”  
“Mmm,” She said, cuddling into his side more, “Comfy.”  
Well that was unbelievably adorable. He accepted that his fate was probably going to be Sasha’s pillow for the night.  
“You won't be saying that if we fall asleep on the couch. Wanna go sleep in a bed?”  
She groaned. “Yours?” She asked.  
“If you want.” Tim said.  
He led Sasha into his room, where she flopped down onto the bed. He gathered a pair of pajamas and slipped into the bathroom to get ready for bed. Sasha was dead asleep when he got back in the room, not even stirring when he got into bed next to her.

~~

When he woke up the next morning, Sasha was latched onto his side like an octopus. He didn’t want to move, he liked the feeling too much, but he did really have to pee. He unwrapped her arms and got up.  
Last time she had stayed over, she had made him breakfast, so it was only fair that he returned the favor. He pulled out a carton of eggs and a loaf of bread.  
As the eggs were cooking, he zoned out, staring into his reflection in the mirror. The date was really nice. He’d always imagined what meeting his soulmate would be like, but it wasn’t anything like he’d thought. There weren’t any fireworks, no angel choir singing. It just felt right, it felt natural.  
“Good morning,” Sasha yawned as she walked into the kitchen.  
“I probably should have asked before I started making them, but do you like eggs?”  
“As long as they’re not scrambled.”  
Tim grinned. “There’s tea in the cabinet if you want some, or I could put on a pot of coffee.”  
“Water?” Sasha asked.  
“Glasses are in the cabinet left on the sink.”  
Tim watched Sasha as she trudged around the kitchen. He had thought she looked gorgeous all dressed up for their date, but here, in a pair of his pajama pants and t-shirt, with bleary eyes and a bad case of bedhead, she was the prettiest person he had ever seen.  
He threw away the egg he had let burn while he was staring at her and finished cooking. They sat down to eat, having a very pleasant conversation while Sasha finished waking up.

~~  
“What do you think Elias wanted?” Daniela asked. Jon had been called into a meeting an hour beforehand, and he had yet to come back.  
Tim shrugged. He was a bit worried, but it felt like a dumb thing to be worried about. “Probably initiating him into his weird cult.” He said.  
“Probably.” Daniela agreed. “Oh, hey, there’s a newbie in the library.”  
“Really?” That was a really shocker of a fact. All of the librarians were positively ancient, and he wouldn’t have been surprised if they had worked there since the Institute was founded.  
“Yeah! His name is Martin, and he’s really rather sweet, but I’m not sure exactly how competent he is.”  
The door opened then, and Jon finally came back. Something was wrong, Tim noticed. He was walking very slowly, and he had his head down. It was the opposite of his usual stride. Something had happened in the meeting, and it affected him.  
Tim bided his time, until Daniela left to go have an argument with someone in Finances. He went up to Jon, who was very focused on whatever was on his computer.  
“You doing alright?” He asked.  
Jon yelped, startled by Tim. He sat there for a second, breathing heavy, before responding. “I need,” he started, then paused, “what are you doing tonight?” He finally asked.  
“I’m sorry, but I’ve got a girl, and I’m not interested in you like that.” Tim joked.  
“Can I come over?” he asked, ignoring Tim’s joke. “I think I need to talk this over with someone, and you’re the closest friend I have.”  
“Aww, you consider me a friend?” Tim said, hiding how genuinely touched he was under a veil of teasing.  
“Tim.” Jon warned.  
“Touchy. Alright, I’ll text you my address. Though, Sasha’ll probably be there too, you good talking about whatever it is with her there?”  
Jon nodded. “I wanted to talk to her about it anyway, it’s perfect.”

~~~  
Sasha and Tim were sitting on his couch, her head in his lap, when there was a knock on the door. “It’s open!” Tim called.  
Jon walked into the living room and immediately began pacing. His brow was furrowed, and he was lost in thought. Sasha looked up at Tim, confusion on her face. He started to say something, but didn’t want to startle Jon. Instead, he reached over to the side table, where a marker was sitting.  
“Let him think. He’ll tell us what is going on when he figures it out.” He wrote.  
Sasha took the marker from him and wrote under it. “Ok. Is it bad?”  
The marker was returned. “I’m not sure.”  
After waiting for what felt like an hour, Jon stopped. It was sudden, and Tim felt Sasha startle. He turned on his heel so he was facing them.  
“I was offered a promotion.” He said.  
“Really?” Sasha said, “For what position?”  
“Head archivist.”  
The room fell silent. Sasha threw a glance at Tim. He knew that she had been talking to Gertrude more often, and he didn’t get many details of these discussions, but it was a pretty solid guess that she had been eyeing the position.  
“Are you going to take it?” Sasha asked, her voice measured.  
Jon sighed. “I don’t know? I don’t really think I’m really qualified? But the pay jump is substantial, and Elias seems to think I’m qualified enough.”  
“I didn’t even realize the position was open.” Sasha said, more to herself than either of them.  
Jon still responded. “I didn’t either, it just opened up a couple days ago. Although, Elias was really cagey about what happened to her. I don’t think she retired, though.”  
“He probably murdered her because she wouldn’t join his weird murder cult.” Tim joked.  
“Tim! That’s not funny!” Sasha said. She tried to look stern, but it didn’t last long before she started laughing.  
Tim gently pushed Sasha off of him. “Well, this seems like a conversation that requires some champagne. It is a celebration, after all.” He walked into the kitchen, leaving Jon and Sasha to talk amongst themselves. It seemed like a conversation he wasn’t needed for.  
As he was walking back into the living room with three glasses in his hands, he heard Jon say, “I’m still not sure.”  
“Well,” Tim said, announcing his entrance, “I personally think you should take it. It’s an archive, how hard could it be, really? It’s just like a library but old. Though, we will miss you up in the coolest room in the building.”  
“That’s actually what I wanted to talk to you two about.” Jon said. “If I take the job, I’m allowed to choose three people to help assist me.”  
“So you wanted to ask us?” Sasha asked.  
“Yes.”  
“Hold on. You said three.” Tim said. “There’s two of us here.”  
“Yes. I’m not sure who else to ask.”  
“We can figure it out.”

~~~  
Tim set down a box with a dramatic sigh. He clapped his hands like an elementary school teacher until everybody else in the room was staring at him. “I declare a break.” He announced. They stared at him for a second more, before voicing their agreements.  
Martin, who Elias had assigned as Jon’s third assistant, piped up a “would anyone like some tea?” before scurrying off.  
Tim opened one of his desk drawers, where he had hidden away a blanket and some throw pillows. He held them up to Sasha.  
“Please,” Sasha said once she noticed what he was holding up.  
He spread the blanket out behind his desk and had just propped the pillows against the desk when Sasha plopped down onto them, nearly knocking him down in the process. He sat down, shuffling himself into her arms until they were both comfortable.  
They just sat there for a while, exhaustion truly setting in. Then, Sasha spoke up.  
“What do you think the world was like before soulmates existed?” She asked.  
Tim shrugged. He’d never really thought about it. “There was probably a lot more heartbreak, people getting together with people who they weren’t actually compatible with.”  
“My Nana was alive before the change. She used to tell me that there was a lot less pressure in love. That you could start dating someone without worrying if they were The One.”  
“What made you think of this?” Tim asked.  
“I’m not sure, just something that was on my mind.” They fell into silence, one that was less comfortable than previous. “Do you ever wonder if your soulmate is really the only one who is right for you?”  
“Sasha.” He looked up at her, seeing her glazed stare, “do you think we’re not right for each other?”  
Sasha seemed to snap back to reality completely. “No no, that’s not what I meant at all! I know whoever decides soulmates did a perfect job with us. I just mean, well, what about other people? How are we so sure that there is one single perfect person for everyone?”  
Tim considered for a moment. “I’m not sure, but I think the system works well enough. And personally, I’m not complaining. I did bag a pretty perfect soulmate.”  
Sasha laughed. “I’m not perfect, but thank you. I got a pretty good one myself.”  
They sat there for the rest of the break, not speaking, just basking in each other. It was good. Tim was incredibly happy.

~~

The archives were empty when Tim got back from lunch. It was weird, but not strange enough to raise any alarms. Jon calling any combination of the assistants off site to investigate some at the drop of a hat was not an uncommon occurrence. Jon himself being gone was more strange, but it still didn’t cause Tim any concern.  
“Eugh!” He said, hearing the squish of a worm beneath his feet. That’s when he spotted the tape recorder. While everyone was out, he might as well have some fun.  
“Is this working?” He asked, clicking it on. “Ok, test, test. What are you doing on the floor?” he grinned. “Statement of Joe Spooky, regarding sinister happenings in the downtown-”  
“Tim! Look out!” He heard.  
“Sasha?” He asked, turning his head toward her voice.  
“Behind you! Run!” She cried.  
He turned to see what exactly was behind him. “Oh-” He gasped out.  
A human, or human-like thing, was just a few feet behind him. The red dress and stringy black hair, plus the worms crawling in and out of the holes covering the skin, clocked the figure as Prentiss immediately.  
“Do you hear their song?” Prentiss asked, approaching closer, though Tim was sure he didn’t see her mouth move.  
“Tim!” Sasha yelled again. He felt her body knock into him, and they both tumbled onto the floor. On instinct, he put his hand on her face and pushed up. She yelped and scrambled around, fingers latching onto his shirt. She pulled and flipped both of them around, leaving Tim on top of her now.He kicked at the floor, trying to get up, instead crushing a worm and having it bounce up, knocking against Sasha’s ankle.  
He broke Sasha’s grip on his shirt, rolled off of her and got up. He sprinted into Jon’s office, away from Prentiss, hoping Sasha would follow him. Inside the office, he found more worms. Half of them were dead, and the rest were crawling over the corpses. He saw as they noticed him, and turned to crawl after him.  
He turned around, ready to rush back out of the room. Instead, he stumbled and fell directly into some boxes. He landed on the same side he did earlier, and he could already feel the bruises forming. Of course, when, instead of papers, he felt the hard metal of CO2 canisters inside the box, he knew the bruises were going to be bad.  
The canisters were a blessing though. He grabbed as many as he could carry, releasing one onto the worms ready to swarm him. He turned towards the door before reconsidering, remembering that Prentiss was probably still out there. Instead, he turned around and went to the trap door. The tunnels had to be his safest bet.  
There were less worms there. He found a corner where he could spray the worms resting there. Then, he sat down to take a breath. As he sat, he noticed a sliver of something on his arm. He pushed up his sleeve to see, in precise writing, “Worms attacked. Do NOT come back.” Under it, less precise, an “I love you” was scrawled out.  
Sasha had tried to warn him, and he had been too stupid to notice it.

~~~

Tim woke up to a guy in a hazmat suit staring at him. He yelped, both in surprise, and because memories of everything came rushing back when he opened his eyes.  
“Timothy Stoker, correct?” Hazmat asked.  
He nodded, too shocked that he was alive to speak.  
“Follow me over here. We are going to need you to shower before we proceed any further.”  
Tim followed numbly, still processing everything. He stripped down once instructed. He had bandages on. Why were they making him take a shower with bandages on? Maybe they were waterproof, or something. After a full inspection of his body, his eyes landed on his left inner forearm. It was very blank.  
He wasn’t sure why that was notable.


End file.
